


Inevitable

by misbegotten



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, X-Men: First Class (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-01 22:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15783546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: Ficlets from Tumblr. Or, two times Erik found Charles in his bed and one time the opposite was true.





	1. 01/

**Author's Note:**

> 01) Set during XMFC, for the prompt "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?". Written for [luredin](http://luredin.tumblr.com/).

Their encounter with the new mutant had not gone well. According to Charles, she had low-level telepathy, and Charles was excited to meet her. When they'd arrived at the diner where she worked, however, she'd ignored their attempts to interact with her completely. And she was blocking Charles mentally. In frustration, Charles had touched her arm -- certainly not intending to get physical with her, just wanting to _connect_. They'd both flinched perceptibly, and Charles had withdrawn his hand as if he'd been scalded.

They'd left soon after, Charles declaring the attempt a lost cause.

He's been quiet on the ride back to their hotel of the night. Too quiet, because Charles is normally gregarious and full of plans. Erik shoots him a worried look or two, but Charles just gives him a tired smile, which doesn't reassure Erik in the slightest.

Back in their hotel room, Erik had retired to the bathroom to complete his evening ablutions. When he comes back into the room he discovers Charles is asleep. In Erik's bed.

Naked.

Charles is naked in Erik's bed. Asleep. But definitely still naked, even though Erik blinks several times to assure himself that he is not imagining it.

Charles is asleep on his chest, the sheet drawn up a modest length to cover his backside. Gloriously creamy skin from his waist to his shoulders entrances Erik, makes his cock twitch and give him pause. Is Charles trying to send him a not so subtle message that the dynamic between them -- forever skirting the bounds of propriety for two grown men who'd been spending every moment together for the past few weeks -- needs to change? That Erik has not been the only one feeling the tension, definitely sexual, that charged the atmosphere between them? Or is Charles simply... confused?

Erik crosses to the bed and kneels down beside Charles, whose face is in repose. Dark hair curls across his forehead, beckoning in a tempting way for Erik to brush it back. His lips, naturally pink and inviting, are parted slightly in a way that teases Erik to touch them with his own. Erik gulps and tries to pull himself away from such thoughts.

"Charles," he says softly. "Charles, are you okay?"

Charles' eyes open. "My friend," he says. There is unnatural emphasis on the second word. "I am more than okay."

Erik dares to place a hand on Charles' bare shoulder. "What are you doing, Charles?"

Charles lifts his head slightly from the pillow. "It's a curious thing," he says thoughtfully. "Her mutant ability is not telepathy, _per se_. Rather, she seems to have the ability to bring to the fore one's innate desires. And make one desperately want to act on them. I imagine her customers have an inordinate fondness for desserts, for example."

"Desserts?" Erik echoes dumbly. Because when Charles shifts, the sheet slips temptingly to display the skin at Charles' ass. 

"Whatever desire one is harboring deep down," Charles explains patiently. As if Erik is a slow student. "And I find that I can't deny that _this_ is what I want."

Erik parses that carefully. "You're under the influence of another mutant," he says, a bit desperately. "You don't know what you're saying."

Charles licks his lips. They're beckoning Erik. "Oh, but I do. More clearly than I ever have. I know exactly what I'm saying and what I want." Charles extends his hand and cups Erik's cheek, drawing Erik a little closer to his own face. "I want you. I've wanted you, I want you, and I will continue to want you. Past, present, and future tenses."

Erik's body is coiled to spring. Of course, he's imagined something like this. He's imagined touching Charles. Kissing Charles. Doing more than that with Charles. But the possibility of actually having Charles now has set his senses aflame. He wants nothing more than to disrobe, to slip under the sheet with Charles and have his way with him.

But he doesn't ever want Charles to have regrets should that happen. And right now...

"If you feel the same way in the morning," Erik says resolutely, "I won't say no."

Charles smiles, coaxing a return expression from Erik.

"Will you lay with me?" Charles asks. "I can put on some clothes, if it will make you feel more comfortable."

"It's-- fine." The word is choked a bit. Can Erik resist the temptation to explore that expanse of skin, if given the chance right now? Charles has always tested Erik's limits, Erik's resolve to stay on his own path of war against Shaw above everything else. And now, he's being the worst kind of tease. Except that Charles is offering him an out. Erik could simply say no.

Erik is not one to back down from a challenge, though. Without another word, he strips off his clothes. 

Charles pulls the sheet back invitingly, and Erik slips into bed beside him. He lies on his back and Charles shifts to rest in the shelter of his arms as if he was designed by some higher being to fit there absolutely perfectly.

"Sleep," Charles says. He twines his legs through Erik's, lets his fingers rest gently on Erik's chest. "We'll revisit this in the morning."

Erik is not sure he'll ever be able to sleep. He's going to be busy memorizing the feel of Charles next to him. The scent of Charles, his abominable cologne mixed with something earthy and elemental, something quintessentially bookish and intoxicating at the same time.

"Sleep," Charles says again, his own voice dropping slightly as he closes his own eyes and proceeds to do just that.

Erik has been given a gift, he thinks as he cradles Charles in his arms. And maybe come morning he'll be given more than that. Maybe he'll be given his dreams too.

It will be a long night for Erik. But one made that much sweeter by the possibilities that lay before him. Next to him. In his arms. He never thought to have such a thing in his life. And now, his senses are imbued with nothing but Charles, on every level -- intellectual, physical, emotional. Charles could easily become his world, if Erik let him.

Erik pushes the thought aside. Shaw is still his goal. But maybe, just maybe, there is a future for him beyond Shaw. That's something he'd never considered before.

He considers it now with tenderness. And places a kiss on Charles' hair. He marks it as a promise that, no matter what happens in the morning, he'll take care of Charles. 

And, on that thought, he drops into sleep.


	2. 02/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Tumblr prompt: Well, this is awkward. Set during XMFC.

Erik had left the hotel in favor of a long walk, ostensibly to clear his head after their latest meeting with a would-be mutant ally. It had not gone well, and Erik was feeling frustrated.

That was all true. He had needed to clear his head. And he _was_ frustrated. But it wasn't to do with the lack of progress in recruiting mutants. It was Charles.

Charles, whose smile he had come to depend on to lighten his mood. Charles, whose casual touches on his shoulders or hands were becoming quite addictive. Charles, who invaded his personal space as casually as he had invaded Erik's thoughts that first night that they met in the depths of the ocean.

"You are not alone," Charles had said. And when he was with Charles, Erik was starting to believe it.

Erik couldn't afford the luxury of hope. He had one goal -- kill Shaw -- and everything else was secondary. Even the growing closeness he was feeling with Charles.

In the past few days, Erik had begun to distrust himself around Charles. It would be far too easy to give in to his growing feelings and do something stupid like melt visibly into Charles' touch. To close the distance between them and reach out and _take_.

So Erik cooled his heels outside the hotel room until he felt more in control of himself and finally, when the night air was becoming just this side of chill, turned back to the hotel.

He twisted the doorknob with a fraction of his powers and pushed open the door. The sight that met him when he crossed the threshold, however, stopped him in his tracks.

Charles, on the bed above the blanket. Charles, with his trousers pulled down and his thick cock in his hands. Charles, his eyes screwed tightly closed and a name on his lips. It fell into the room like a thunderclap, jolting Erik's senses.

"Erik," Charles was saying as he brought himself off.

Erik was torn between wanting to close the distance between them and needing to shuffle quietly back out of the room. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Charles took the choice out of his hands by opening his eyes.

Charles flushed even more -- his body was coiled with tension and the color was already high on his cheeks -- and stopped what he was doing. He did not remove his hand from his cock, however.

"Well," Charles said with absolutely no embarrassment. "This is awkward."

Erik felt his own color rising, as the heat in his blood started to boil. He was overcome by the realization that Charles wanted him. Truly _wanted_ him, and not just as friend or tactical ally. 

"It doesn't have to be," Erik found himself saying. "Awkward, that is."

Charles' lips quirked into a slight smile. He'd never looked more inviting to Erik, with the plain evidence of his desire right there before them. With his lips even more pink than was their norm. With a fine sheen of sweat building on his forehead. God, he looked irresistible.

Charles licked his lips, obviously deciding that words were not enough in this situation, and jacked his cock deliberately. "Erik," he said as his hand moved hypnotically over the length of his erection. "Would you care to join me?"

Erik was torn between wanting to immediately strip off his own clothes and have his way with Charles or fleeing. But fleeing had never been his way. Retreating strategically, yes. But there was absolutely nothing strategic about what he was feeling at this moment. It was all desire shouting in his head, a cacophony of want and need. 

He could still walk away, leaving them both with some dignity intact. He could pretend this had never happened. For that matter, Charles could probably erase it from Erik's mind with a touch of a finger to his temple.

But Erik didn't want that. Charles was offering himself to Erik, and Erik wanted to do nothing more than accept.

He took a step closer to the bed, deliberately making a choice. 

"Yes," he said, drawing in a noisy breath. "I think I would like to join you."

Charles' answering smile was delighted and fully enticing. He extended his free hand, and Erik took it. There was an agreement inherent in the action. That whatever happened next, he and Charles would meet the challenges together.

It was a promise that Erik hoped he could live up to. He wanted nothing more than to be at Charles' side. To lose himself in Charles' hopes and dreams. And carnal wants. But he couldn't help the words sliding from his lips. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he said.

Charles tightened his grip on Erik's hand. "You could never hurt me," Charles said. "I know you."

Did Charles, really? Or was Charles just seeing what he wanted to see in Erik?

"I've been inside your mind," Charles said gently. "I know the forces that are driving you. But I've seen more than just rage. I've seen a man I admire. Who I want more than reason dictates I should. I want to experience everything with you." Charles placed a good deal of emphasis on the last two words.

With Erik. He wanted everything with Erik.

And Erik, damn his own ego, couldn't help but be moved by that. It was more than just simple lust driving him to Charles' side.

Erik leaned down and kissed Charles. It was a deep and filthy kiss. He plunged his tongue into Charles' mouth and tasted so much need. He projected his own carnal wants, the tension that had been building between them over so many days spent together in each other's pockets bubbling past whatever hesitation he had felt about letting his feelings be known.

"Okay," he said after he'd drawn back. He locked eyes with Charles, blue against piercing blue, and saw his own desire reflected back at him.

Erik threw aside caution. And succumbed.


	3. 03/03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XMFC AU in which Erik did not return to his room to find Mystique in his bed. Loosely based on acherik's prompt "But there’s a ghost! I can't sleep if there's a ghost!"
> 
> Thanks to [out_there](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/) for the beta.

Erik didn't intend to fall asleep on Charles' bed.

He'd been unsettled all evening. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, from frustration at trying and failing to move the satellite dish, to Charles accessing the "brightest corner" of Erik's mind and unlocking sweet memories of his childhood, to dizzying glee when Erik succeeded.

For better or worse, Charles had granted him a remarkable gift. A place between rage and serenity was a precarious place indeed.

And then there had been the conversation with Charles over chess. "Killing Shaw will not bring you peace," Charles had said. Erik had replied flippantly that peace was never an option. And, until he'd been revisited by the gentle ghost of his mother and the lost specter of a happy childhood, that had been undeniably true.

But now he was troubled. Charles had opened up his mind to a commotion of thoughts about what he might do after he killed Shaw. What options might he have left at his disposal afterwards? Because, for the first time in years, he could see a possibility that he might want to survive their last meeting. That there might be something more for him in this world than vengeance.

Charles had, perhaps without intending to do so, laid the foundations for a school. For a team. For a family.

Erik had been so long without family. Without hope for a future beyond a suicide run at Shaw.

Unable to sleep, he'd gone to Charles' room to talk. But Charles was not there. Erik sat on the bed to wait, propped carefully on the pillows that smelled of Charles. Closed his eyes just for a moment, trying to rein in his racing thoughts. He did not expect to sleep, not in the slightest. Not when he was surrounded by Charles' things. A copy of _The Once and Future King_ lay on the bedside table. An extra blanket was tossed at the foot of the bed, because Erik knew from their travels that Charles grew cold easily. A ridiculously expensive pen sat atop a pad of paper, perhaps so Charles could jot down any thoughts that came to him in the night. All the detritus of Charles' existence surrounded him; the man was palpably present in the room even in his physical absence.

So Erik had closed his eyes, yes. But it was against his will that sleep claimed him.

*

Erik drifted for some indeterminate amount of time, his sleeping thoughts buffeted by memories and desires and indefinable want. In his head, he could see his mother again. She cupped his cheek gently, a reminder of better days. He saw Shaw urging him to push a coin across the table, calm and deadly in the face of Erik's failure. He dreamt of the first time he'd met Charles, the sea threatening to overtake them both with its pitch dark depths but Charles' voice serving as a shining beacon, pulling him back to the surface. _You are not alone_ , he was saying intently, desperately. _Erik, you are not alone._ And Erik believed him, so heartily that even in the murky confusion of his dream he could feel Charles' arms around him, wrestling him back to the light.

He woke with a start, the words still ringing in his head. To find that, indeed, he was not alone.

Charles was standing next to the bed, looking at Erik with what could only be described as tenderness. His eyes were soft, something tentative and worried in their sky blue depths. He had one hand extended, touching Erik's shoulder lightly. That must have been what woke Erik.

"You're projecting, my friend," Charles said softly. "Are you okay?"

Erik cleared his throat, struggling to stem the tide of thoughts that threatened to spill out as unguarded words. _What have you done to me?_ he thought, first and foremost. _What have you unlocked in my head?_. "I'm fine," he managed.

Charles' expression went still at that, and his hand fell away from Erik's shoulder. "I'd say you are anything but fine," he said, the words stilted and oddly formal given the circumstances. Given the fact that it was the middle of the night and Erik was in Charles' bed, dreaming of Charles and apparently shouting his tumultuous emotions to the telepath.

Erik sat up, swung his feet around to rest on the floor. He didn't get up, however. Instead, he tapped a fingertip to his head. "You stirred up some things," he told Charles.

"I'm sorry if I distressed you," Charles said quickly, obviously stricken.

But Erik shook his head. "Not distressed. You've given me a lot to think about."

"About...?" Charles asked hesitantly.

_You are not alone_ , memory Charles echoed in his brain.

"About the future," Erik decided to say, finally. "About a future after I kill Shaw."

Charles looked pained and rocked back on his heels, his hands going to his pockets. "What, then, does the future hold for you now? Should that come to pass?"

Erik rose from the bed, the distance between them negligible. Charles smelt vaguely of books, of the Scotch they'd had earlier in the evening over their chess game. Of something that his senses labeled as indefinably Charles after the weeks they'd spent in close proximity.

"I'm not sure," Erik admitted grudgingly. "I think--"

Charles tipped his head as Erik spoke, and the Charles voice inside his head said again _You are not alone_. There was virtually no space between them now, and Charles licked his lips, perhaps unconsciously. The act drew Erik's thoughts irretrievably there, and Erik realized that Charles was in that moment eminently kissable.

There was a shock.

"You think...?" Charles prompted softly, as Erik had left the sentence unfinished.

"I think," Erik said, screwing up his courage. "That I'd like to kiss you."

He waited for Charles to flinch. To recoil, or shout at him. To do anything, in fact, but what Charles did, which was to melt into a smile.

"Then perhaps you should," Charles murmured. And bit his bottom lip. This time it had to be deliberate.

Erik leaned down very carefully and kissed the corner of Charles' mouth. It could, perhaps, be labeled a peck. Not a declaration of anything more than simple affection between two men who had lived in each other's pockets for weeks. It was beyond the bounds of propriety, but not so unforgiveable that Charles couldn't laugh it off and resurrect the walls that had eroded between them. The tear on Charles' cheek that afternoon had been a heartfelt expression of feelings, but even now Charles could pull back, clap Erik on his shoulder, and call him "my friend" in a way that would forgive the intrusion into his personal space.

Charles did none of that. Instead, his hands rose to cup the back of Erik's neck, to pull him in even more closely. His lips pressed deliberately and soundly on Erik's. Erik gasped slightly in surprise, his mouth opening, and Charles' tongue licked into his mouth.

Things grew heated rather quickly after that.

"Do you know what you're doing, Charles?" Erik asked as he pressed his body against Charles.

"I know what _we're_ doing," Charles replied, his words shaky with anticipation. He raised a hand, twirled the fingers lightly near his temple. "May I?"

Erik nodded, not trusting himself with further words.

Charles pressed a finger to his head, and Erik suddenly felt the intertwining of Charles' thoughts with his. A vision came to him, of his appearance in Charles' bed when Charles entered the room. A thought came with it, a thought as to how badly Charles wanted him in that moment, when he'd seen Erik on his pillow, lying there dreaming of Charles.

Had Erik ever been truly alone in his thoughts since that night in the ocean, Erik wondered briefly. And Charles, his mind twined with Erik's, answered for him. _Yes and no_ , Charles said without speaking aloud. _You've carried part of me with you from the moment I first laid eyes on you._

And Erik felt the truth of it. Charles had never been long from his thoughts, but in the bare honesty that Charles was sharing between them -- allowing Erik free rein in his own head as he combined his innermost self with Erik's -- Erik saw that Charles had not put himself there deliberately. It was not manipulation on Charles' part. No, Erik had latched onto a portion of Charles that very first night. It was like a string tying the two of them together, a tether with give and whatever freedom Erik might need from Charles but which nonetheless anchored them to each other.

Oh. _Oh._ Erik had come up against a spike of sheer need in Charles' head. Yes, Charles wanted him in every way. And Erik returned the feeling to his utmost.

He crashed his lips against Charles', demanding entrance this time. Taking what he'd been longing for.

Charles responded enthusiastically. He fit into Erik's arms perfectly, snugly. Charles raised a hand and combed his fingers through Erik's hair, fingers pressing against Erik's scalp as he dragged Erik in for another kiss, and then another.

Erik was growing hard. As was Charles, he realized when he slid one leg between Charles' and pressed himself against Charles' length. Their hips touched, groins meeting, and Erik moaned into Charles' mouth.

"If you want to leave, now would be the time to do it," he suggested.

"Erik," Charles responded with amusement. "You're in my room."

"So I am," Erik said. And then he tugged on Charles' shirt, pulling the fabric up so that he could touch the pale planes of Charles' chest beneath it. Charles shivered under his fingertips, and then tried to help by removing the offending article.

Instead, he became hopelessly tangled in it, one arm hanging awkwardly in the fabric and the rest of his shirt bunched around his neck. "Help?" he said plaintively.

Erik chuckled and worked the shirt over Charles' head, finally able to discard it onto the floor. His fingers moved lower, scrabbling at Charles' trousers, opening the flies. Charles gasped as Erik's hand moved in his underwear, cupping the hardening length of his shaft.

"Erik, I shall not be responsible for my actions if you don't remove some of your clothing now," Charles said breathlessly.

Erik gave Charles' erection a firm tug before withdrawing, then scrabbled at his own clothes. He kicked them away -- hindered briefly by the fact that he was trying to take off his pants before he'd even managed his shoes and socks -- while Charles shed his own.

Then he took Charles into his embrace again, and they tumbled to the mattress. Bare skin met bare skin, and Erik buried his head into the crook of Charles' neck as he twined his legs through Charles'. Their erections met, and Charles snaked a hand down to caress both their lengths.

"God, Charles," Erik breathed. "I won't last if you keep doing that."

"We have all night," Charles said, cheekily. He buried a chuckle into Erik's chest, and jacked their cocks again. "I fully intend to use it."

Erik grinned. "Don't let me stop you, then."

"You know," Charles said thoughtfully, as if he weren't doing sinful things to Erik as he mused aloud. "When I saw you in my bed I thought I was dreaming."

"Best dream ever," Erik managed. He tried unsuccessfully to restrain his hips from bucking against Charles.

"No," Charles corrected him softly, placing a light kiss on Erik's lips. "The best dream ever is one where there are no tomorrows to face. Only nights. Together."

Erik couldn't argue with that. And, as he dissolved into Charles' touch, he thought that maybe he could actually look forward to that once he rid the world of Shaw. Maybe he could have a happy ending with Charles at his side, in his thoughts, in his dreams, in his bed.

You are not alone, Charles had told him. And then proved to Erik that he really wasn't.

Maybe, Erik thought dimly as he surrendered to pleasure, he need never be again.

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](http://notsanguineatall.tumblr.com/).


End file.
